Life, According to Sam
by StarAngel148
Summary: AU. Sam's never been a sap. So, when he starts drawing hearts, he knows he's in love. A two part story of love and loss. AU Sam/Quinn.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Glee still doesn't belong to me.

A/N: Finally, the Sam/Quinn story I promised. Started five different ideas before I settled on this one. It's AU and two part. I've got a Kurt/Blaine idea forming, so that should be second in the queue, first a Vampire Diaries Forwood fic. Part two will be posted sometime next week. Enjoy!

**Life, According to Sam**

**Part I**

When Sam sees Quinn the first time, the thing he notices is her laugh. It's melodic and sweet, and she doesn't hold back or tries to make it attractive. His first thought is 'wow!' followed closely by 'who is this girl?', but he doesn't get anywhere close to expressing either of those sentiments.

He makes a complete fool of himself, so focused on watching her that he runs into a door and her friends all notice. Their laugh and jeers bother him- he could seriously be hurt and no one bothers to ask?- but when he finally gathers the courage to look towards her group again, his eyes meet Quinn's and he realizes she's the only one not laughing.

The first time he gets to talk to Quinn is two weeks into the new semester. Her lab partner is out sick and he pays his twenty bucks to skip class. When they get paired, she's all business- turn on the flame, mix these chemical, watch that beaker. She doesn't say anything unrelated to their project until class lets out, "You take directions really well."

By the time he manages to form the response, "Well, thanks. When you're being lead by someone who knows what they're doing, it's easy.", she's all ready at the other end of the hallway, on the starting quarterbacks' arm. She does however throw him a smile over her shoulder.

Sam's never been a sap. Sure he's good looking, but he went to an all-boys school and okay, that summer in Florida at his grandparents, he felt up the neighbor's daughter, but he'd never felt like this before. So, when he starts drawing hearts with arrows through them with slogans like, 'Sam + Quinn 4ever' and 'Quinn Evans' or the ever embarrassing 'Samuel Patrick Fabray' monogram, he knew he was head over heels for a girl he barely knew.

He could list on all his digits what he knew about her- favorite color, birthday, kirks, habits- but he didn't know the important stuff, like how many kids she wanted or the color scheme for her dream kitchen, and what would she name their kids?

The first time Sam and Quinn had a real conversation was at the Halloween dance. He's come as a vampire, because if anyone could get the girl, it was Edward Cullen. She came as the Queen of Hearts, a crown on her head and a scepter in her hand- highly appropriate if you asked Sam. Finn, her boyfriend, at ditched her to chat up someone else and a wide receiver was currently hitting on her. He watched her roll her eyes at his come-ons and polite excuse herself. After a bit of stalking on his part, they ended up at the football stadium; her on the bleachers, him trying to hide at the entrance ramp.

"I would be easier if you stopped following me?"

Her voice startled him; he hadn't even realized she knew he was there. Or alive in general.

"Sorry, I'll just go."

He got as far as one step off the ramp before he heard sigh and yell out.

"Stay. Please? I could use the company."

He didn't need to be told twice. As calmly as he could, Sam walked over and sat beside her.

"What are you doing out here?"

She was silent for a minute, seemingly wondering how to answer him.

"Trying to get away from everybody in there." She bit her bottom lip and he watched her shift in her seat. "Do you ever feel weird? Not like a freak per say, but more in a, 'What am I doing here, with these people?' kind of way?"

Sam wasn't sure how to respond.

"I feel different from people here, sometime, like they're Decepticons and I'm an Autobot. Like I can't understand them and they won't accept me."

Quinn nodded, like she was actually paying attention, but Sam knew she probably didn't understand his reference.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who wants to leave this place, has a aspiration to see the world. Except for maybe like Rachel Berry. I mean," She sighed deeply and then turned around to face him. "What's the point of it all? Why am I here? I'm a junior, I graduate next year- where am I going? What am I doing? I can't get stuck in Lima, Ohio. I have dreams, and hopes and I want to live."

This was a side of Quinn Sam had never seen before. She was ranting and he was pretty sure if she didn't take a breath soon she was going to pass out.

"Puck, Finn, Santana and Brittany act like being popular is the be all and end all. Like nothing can ever measure up after this- the right now. But that can't be me! I can't be happy like this. Barefoot and pregnant, white picket fences and no career or aspirations of my own. I can't have my life revolve around someone else's needs."

"Okay, okay." Sam soothed when she started to hyperventilate. "Put you head between your legs and breathe deeply."

She bent over as well as she could and sucked in deep, long breaths while Sam rubbed her back. When she'd finally calmed down, Quinn stared at Sam, like she expected him to make fun of her or something. When no quip came, Quinn half smiled.

"Sorry about that. I freak out sometimes, all that meaning of life stuff."

Sam nodded. Then placed his over hers, where they were folded on her lap.

"I think you'll be fine." Then he leaned in close and whispered. "Don't tell anyone I ever said this, but you're Quinn Fabray; you're strong and determined, considerate and your smile lights up a room, you'll be okay. You'll figure it out and be amazing at whatever you want to be. Because if you can't figure it out, that no one else can either."

Quinn smiled shyly. "Except, maybe, Rachel."

"Yeah, except Rachel." Sam agreed, laughing. "That girl is scary. She corned me one day to ask me to join Glee. She has this psycho eye, nervous twitch thing going on there."

Quinn split a stitch laughing. Sam, feeling the moment was over and wanting to get away before he said something dorky to humiliate himself stood up and headed down the bleachers.

"Sam?"

He turned around and suddenly she was right in front of him, her lips on his. It was nothing more than her lips pressed to his, thirty seconds- forty-five, tops- but it was the best thing that had ever happened to him that lasted under a minute. He sees fireworks, really pretty ones.

Then she was walking away, smirking at him over her shoulder.

"Goodnight Sam."

After that, for the rest of the semester, Sam noticed that his gaze connected with Quinn's a lot.

When he was switching out his book at his locker, she was flirting with Finn, but her eyes were in his direction and her smile would widen when he'd notice. When he dropped all pens in English, Quinn's hands brushed his when she returned a pen that had rolled under her chair and he'd spend all class looking at her instead of the teacher. When she passed him the halls, she would whisper his name, which sent chills down his spine, and he would stare until she left the hallway.

When the last day of school before Christmas break ended, Sam was grateful. A few days away from the torture Quinn was putting him through. He waited until most of the school had cleared out before he when to his locker. The note fell out when he opened the door. It was written with a pink glitter pen, it had no signature, and it was only an address, date and time, but he instinctively knew who it was from. He could almost hear the words aloud in his ear.

2375 E. Mayfield Circle

12/26 7 p.m.

He debated with himself for days whether to go or not. One hand, it was Quinn- he'd find a way to get there, even if he was in jail. Other hand, he had no idea why Quinn wanted to meet with him- And he wasn't getting his hopes up that it meant something, in case it wasn't.

He found himself out the address debating whether to ring the doorbell or leave. The decision was taken out of his hands when Quinn opened the door, wearing a yellow sundress and white knee highs. She beckoned him in, and once he was in arm distance she grabbed his hand and ushered him into the dining room.

The dining room table was set for a dinner for two, candles lit and glasses are filled.

"What do you think?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "About what? Crashing your romantic dinner date with Finn?"

When Quinn laughed, he was even more confused. What was going on? But Quinn was patient and instead pulled him to the table and into a seat.

"This," she motioned to the table, "Is for us. It's our first date. You can pay for the next one."

For a second Sam thought he was dreaming- maybe he was asleep over his computer, drooling on the keyboard- but he couldn't be. Because in his dream Quinn never wore yellow sundress, she wore Catwomen's catsuit to tutoring sessions (which he needed) or Supergirl's costume while she while she kissed him beachside (which he'd like to do one day).

"What about Finn?"

"I like you. Finn's not in the picture."

"You like me?"

"Of course I do. Idiot." She smiled the entire time.

He knows it's an insult, but he could pretend it was a pet name.

"Okay," Sam cracked his first smile since he'd arrived. "What's on the menu Sweet Cheeks?"

"Don't call me that again."

"_Fine._" Kicked puppy dog eyes and lip pouts didn't work on Quinn.

Dating Quinn Fabray was like being continually high, Sam thinks. Everything seems different- newer, better, enhanced. He spends most of Christmas break out of the house- taking Quinn to sappy Romantic Comedies, taking walks through the park, running over puddles and kissing in the rain- that his parents have started complaining and interrogating him when he gets him. And when he's home, he has the dopiest grin on his face that he guess his parents have already started collecting pamphlets on "knowing the signs" and what the rehab options are. His parents have yet to meet Quinn, mostly because he wants Quinn to stay his girlfriend. He has nightmares of introducing them and Quinn bolting after one of his dad's lame jokes.

But Quinn's looking at him like he can do no wrong- even when he makes references she doesn't get or when he whispers Na'vi to her and especially when he shows her the comic book collection he keeps in a vacuum sealed container under his bed. He doesn't even stop to think what it's going to be like when the semester starts until he's in front of his locker putting in his combination. The he pauses and wonder, 'Will Quinn ignore me?', 'Will Finn beat me up?', and 'Why is that Puckerman kid suddenly glaring at me like I'm the antichrist?'.

When he finally clocks back into reality Quinn snuggled into his chest and pulling him towards her homeroom. He doesn't care about anything else.

He walks her to two classes, they split a sandwich at lunch, and he almost makes it the whole day without running into Finn. Until Finn, Puck and a couple of his other football teams corner him after football practice. They push him around a little, punch him a couple of time in the gut before emptying his locker and walking away laughing.

He ends up grabbing what they left- his wallet and car keys-, covering himself with his hands as best he can, and bolting to his car as fast as he can. Unfortunately he runs into the Cherrios halfway to his car.

They stare. He can't move.

"Quinn, totally see it now." Santana smirks.

That jump starts him and he dashes to his car, and he doesn't even bother to glance in Quinn's direction.

'She's breaking up with me.'

'She's breaking up with me.'

'Oh, crap. She's breaking up with me.'

'I was naked in front of Quinn and she wasn't naked too.'

He sulks in his room watching Attack of the Clones on loop until his mom yells for dinner. He passes the living room on the way to the dining room and doubles back in shock. Quinn's squished between his siblings, chatting with his mom. His father is listening intently and nodding.

"Sam, there you are!"

"Sammy, my boy!"

His father jumps off the recliner and claps him on the back.

"Why didn't you tell us you invited Quinny over for dinner?" His mother chastised with a smile. "Your father and I were so shocked when your girlfriend showed up at the door."

Sam sits on the arm of the recliner, next to his father, and watches Quinn charm his family. She's gracious; compliments the pot roast, laughs at the bad jokes, puts up with his siblings, and brushes off the fact that he knocks over her drink. Twice. Afterwards, when he drives her home, he asks her why she showed up for dinner.

"Once I stopped laughing, figured you might be embarrassed. So I came to show you that it's okay."

Sam nodded.

"But just to let you know, Sarah took pictures." He felt his face get pink. "Don't worry, I confiscated the camera…"

"And erased the pictures. Good." When Quinn doesn't confirm, he looks over at her. "You erased the picture right?"

Her response was a smirk.

Valentine's Day have never been fun for Sam; they generally suck because he's never had anyone. It's a big day, their first couple holiday. He makes plan, then remakes them. Then Quinn tells him they're going to the McKinney High Valentine's Day Fair- she's working the kissing booth for an hour and they can hold hand and ride the Ferris Wheel afterwards.

The first part of their date sucks. He glares at every guy that pays a dollar to kiss Quinn and declines Santana's repeated invitations to join her line. When Quinn's hour is almost up, Puck and Finn show up. He thinks about objecting, but keeps quiet. She kisses each with hesitance and wipes her mouth when it's over.

Sam searches for any sign that she felt anything by kissing Finn. He finds none. He's her last customer- he gets more than his dollar's worth. When they break apart, Sam notices they've attracted a crowd.

What starts at the fair, ends in his bedroom. She's unafraid of being naked in front of him and he's so busy memorizing every curve and slope that he's unashamed of being naked in front of her. They cuddle afterwards.

Sam loves Valentine's Day. Everything is perfect.

Sam's become the son the Fabray always wanted and he knows his mom's already picking out china patterns. Then suddenly, Quinn withdraws. She stops taking his phone calls and he starts stalking her- like when he spends an entire Saturday out her favorite ice cream store, hoping she'll show up. They finally speak when scales into her bedroom- a la Spiderman. She was sitting on the bed, waiting for him when he threw himself through the window.

"Why are you ignoring me?" He refrains from yelling because if he gets too loud, Quinn's parents will burst in.

She pats the place next to her on the bed and waits until they're facing each to speak.

"I'm late." When Sam doesn't have a reaction, she scowls. "I'm _late_. Ten days, to be exact. I'm never been late."

"Have you taken a test yet?"

She crosses her arms and her frown deepens. "No, I don't want to know what it'll say."

He buys the test before school and they skip their last class to take it in the privacy of the Evans house. He holds her hand the entire three minutes and breathes a sigh of relief when she comes out of the bathroom happier than she went in.

They don't talk for a week afterwards, but when they do they decide to stock up on condom and never mention the pregnancy scare again.

They end their high school career different then they started it. Sam the Ohio State Championship Quarterback and Quinn a National Cheerleading Champion. They both get accepted to Ohio State University and Sam buys a ring to propose at Graduation Party at the Evans house. He gets as far as 'will you…' before Quinn's pulling him away from their family and friends outside.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

It's the first time since the incident they don't talk about that she's been truly sour with him.

"I mean, what were you doing in there? Doing…" she waves her hands around angrily. "_Doing that_ in front of everyone! For God sake, we're only eighteen."

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. "I know. I just thought, since we're going to be together at Ohio State anyway, why not? I figured we could married in a couple of years, have kids once I've settled into my career and buy a house with a reed door, white picket fence and tree swing in the front yard."

He keeps babbling on about their lives together like it's already written and Quinn can't hear what he's saying, but she can sure feel the panic.

She cuts him off mid-sentence.

"I'm not going to Ohio State, I'm going to NYU."

"What?"

"I said," she repeats through clenched teeth. "You can go to any university you like, but I'm going to NYU."

"What? You never mentioned NYU or any other place for that matter. The plan was always Ohio State together."

He's staring at her like he has no idea where any of this is coming from. That pisses Quinn off.

Suddenly they're each other's faces screaming and gesturing wildly. Their loved ones watch in morbid fascination from the windows.

"Why don't you get it?" She screams before pushing against his chest. "I'm not ready and all this 'our future' crap is freaking me out. I need time, and space. Maybe in a few years Sam. Sorry."

"I'm sorry," he says sarcastically. "for loving you and thinking we can have a future together. _Excuse me_ for _being so in love_ with a selfish bitch that I want to make her my wife! If you can't accept my proposal now, than it's going to be never."

They're at a stalemate and Sam know what she's going to say before she says it.

"Then it's never." She's barely audible and holding back tears. "Goodbye Sam."

She runs off before he can change his mind and take it back.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.**

**A/N: I was busy the beginning of last week and sick by the end of the week. I'm feeling slightly better, and since this was almost completed last week, I struggled through to finish it. I might do a sequel, just don't hold your breath for anytime soon. Viola! The second, and final part of LATS. Hopefully everyone likes it. Please R&R. My next fic, coming next week, will be a Forwood fic.**

**Life, According to Sam**

**Part II**

Sam Evans never pictured himself as a lawyer, but then again he doesn't imagine himself completely alone either.

His parents, bless their hearts, never nag him about settling down. Instead the politely tolerate the bimbos he brings over occasionally, though they never take a true interest since he never repeats companions. He's one of the best defense lawyers in California and although woman are plentiful, his sixty plus hour work weeks make a functioning relationship hard. He tried it one time, a few years back- it goes well until a big case gets put on his desk and he forgets to call her for six weeks. She's hangs up after he states says his name when he finally calls.

Sometime, when he's feeling particularly down on himself, he relives his relationship with Quinn and wonders what would have happened if she'd said yes instead. He can never picture her accepting his proposal, no matter how hard he tries. Occasionally, when he's really masochistic, he hires a private detective to give him a detailed report on her life. He reads the most recent reports while overindulging in scotch to numb the pain he still feels. Fifteen years later and he's still hung up on the girl who ripped out his heart and stomped on it.

If there's one thing Quinn knew, it was that there were no good, single men in New York City. After almost a decade of searching high and low, she still ends up with losers. Her latest boyfriend she dumps, she discovers, is married with kids.

As she rebuffs advances and sips her martini at the newest trendy bar in Manhattan, she wonders what her life would have been like she'd gone to Ohio State with Sam. Would she be happier? She'd like to think so. Would she be as successful? Probably not. Would it have been worth it to take the road less traveled? Absolutely, she almost guarantees it.

Her job- youngest Junior Editor at Vogue- is fabulous and filled with perks, her friends- three wonderful girls she met over her residency at NYU- are supportive of her failed love life, and her apartment- posh, art deco building has a doorman and hers overlooks Central park- is the envy of most people who know her. Though her love life is abysmal, her career has sky rocked without useless interrupts like a _husband_ or _children_. Prada, Valentino, Versace are her children and most days, her weekly deadline and fifty hour work weeks are her husband. She should be happy, but she's not.

When his boss asks him to travel to New York to land a new client, he jumps at the chance. He looks up Quinn's address and sticks the post-it he scribbles it on in his wallet. He's anxious the entire plane ride to the Big Apple and it takes him three days in town, two nights of stalking, and one Clonazepam later he finally gathers the courage to use the post-it in his wallet.

"Quinn Fabray speaking."

Sam hesitates, even considers hanging up, but then he remembers he didn't block his number and she'll just call him back.

"Quinn… hi. It's Sam, Sam Evans."

His brain is not currently filtering things before it leaves his mouth, though he doesn't understand why he's nervous. He's spent the last fifteen years wishing a house would drop on her head, but the second he's _this close_ to contact with her, he's sixteen again.

He waits for her acknowledgment.

"Sam." She shuffles some things around. "It's been years."

Not the response he imagined- though he never expected to speak to her again.

"Yeah. I'm just, in town, and I thought, maybe, we could get a drink together. Tomorrow? If you're free."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She's eager. "Tomorrow is great. Super, really. Say nine-thirty-ish at, uh, Turks and Frogs. It's a wine bar on 11 street.

"Okay."

"Great, great. See you then."

"Yeah." Sam palms his face. What is wrong with him?

Considering it's the first conversation they've had in forever, it's not terrible enlightening or awe-inspiring. He changes his mind about showing up a million and purposely arrives half an hour later than they agreed on, hoping that she doesn't wait for him. Quinn's still at a table- flipping through a folder, sipping on a glass of Chardonnay, and even more beautiful than Sam remembers.

He would like to say that their eyes met, he fall in love with her again and they lived happily ever after. Instead, when their eyes meet, she flashes him a smile and he realizes that it was a good idea to see her again.

"Hi, sorry I was running late."

Quinn smiles sweetly at him, even they both know he's lied.

"It's fine. Gave me time to review some of the pieces a couple of designers forwarded to me."

"So you went into fashion?"

Not what he expected her career choice to be- he imagined her a lady of leisure, married to next presidential candidate- and even though he's reads all about her life, he still can't believe the Quinn became a fashion editor, not a doctor like she'd always told him she wanted to be.

"Yeah. Originally, I was going to go the pre-med track, but then had this elective- History of Contemporary Fashion- that my dorm mate wanted me to take with her and I kind of just knew, fashion was my chosen path. I'm a Junior Editor at Vogue. I review the latest designer collections and select pieces for photo spreads and article themes for issues."

Sam nodded in understanding. He'd wanted to be a graphic design artist when he and Quinn had been dating, due to his love of fantasy and comic books, so his family had been surprised when he'd become a pre-law student.

"I'm a lawyer, for Burtstein, Liteoman & Holms in Los Angeles. My first law class, my professor lectured about the importance of defense for those who can't defend themselves and truth and justice above all else. It struck a chord with me- that's what I wanted to do."

Quinn nodded and smiled. Their lives have turned out so different than expected.

He tries to be nonchalant when he asks, but they both know he could never pull that off.

"Anyone special in your life?"

It's the only question he really wants to know the answer to and the only thing he requests the detective never include in the reports he receives. Just the essentials- where she is, where she works, her residence address, if she's alive, and her cell number. Occasionally some candid photos. Anything more and he'd really torment himself.

"Yes, Carlos."

He tenses.

"My dog." She's smirking at him and he knows she purposely lead you on. "He's Maltese- a big sweetie and more reliable that any man I've met in the city so far."

They laugh together. She pulls out her wallet and hands Sam a couple of pictures.

"I have a lab myself, Sunshine. She's a shelter rescue." He mutters as he flips through the picture- admittedly he spends more time focusing on Quinn's image than looking at her dog.

They talk the night away. When the bar closes, they relocate to an all-night diner, and at six in the morning they go their separate ways.

"I had a really nice time." Her head is bowed, her hands linked in front of her and she's smiling shyly at him.

He almost can't remember why he and Quinn never worked out. They flirt most of the night and he knows if he really tried, they'd end up in bed together. Appealing as the prospect maybe, he can't go there again.

"I did too."

He starts to walk away when Quinn's voice stops him.

"Maybe I could call you sometime, maybe email you."

He has a choice- he can politely decline, let it be a no-hurt-feelings-one-off or he can cut her with his words and hurt her feelings- payback for how she ripped his heart out.

He hasn't made up his mind before he blurts out. "Yeah." He mechanically pulls a business card from his wallet and scribbles all his information on it.

Their hands brush when she takes the card, she blushes and he walks away, feeling her eyes on his back until he's out of sight. He can't wait to return to LA, with a new client to add to his company's portfolio and the vague hope that Quinn never contact him. After a decade and a half, she still has the ability to turn him into the geek he was in high school, the one who collects comic books and speaks Na'vi- something he quit doing senior year at Ohio State.

Quinn is his Kryptonite.

As soon as he's back in California he puts her out his mind- he goes back to womanizing, doubles his workload and avoids his personal email and unknown phone numbers that call like the plague. All to avoid her. It takes him two weeks to gather the courage to open his email.

_Sam,_

_Just wanted to make sure you got home alright. It was nice, seeing you again! Maybe we can meet up the next time you're in town?_

_Sincerely,_

_Quinn_

It's short, non-comitial and contains an empty promise he could pretend they would one day fulfill, but despite how he tries to not let it affect him, it rattles him to the core. He can already feel himself being sucked into the vortex that is Life with Quinn Fabray.

He contemplates exactly what to write back- something polite, nice even, but not encouraging or friendly.

_Quinn,_

_Flight was great. So glad to be home. Next time I'm in New York, I'll look you up._

_Sincerely,_

_Sam_

He thinks he's victorious in dispiriting any further communication on her part, until she writes him again. At first, the emails are impersonal- they discuss NYC, LA, weather, world crisis, politics. Eventually though, they seg-way into personal matter.

She writes all about her life in New York- the emails are often witty, at times pessimistic, and occasionally have him laughing so hard his secretary bursts in to see what's got her straight-laced, serious boss in stitches. He stays true to his resolve of severing contact with Quinn for all of one day. The next day he counters with his own retelling of ill-fated romances and his dissertation on life, love and work so far.

_Sam,_

_While I do appreciate your unique perspective on my latest dating disaster, how can attempt to call a cat anything but? He tried to pay for dinner with coupons. COUPONS! Who does that? Top ten worst date ever. Nothing can top the guy who stole my wallet after I paid for dinner._

_Anyway, the date did serve its purpose- it occupied my focus therefore relieving the stress that had built as I approach my first deadline as full-fledged Editor. The extra hours I put in to ensure the spread will turn out amazing paid off. I was complimented on my work. Be on the lookout! The magazine- featuring my amazing spread on the coming fashion trends- hits stores in two weeks._

_Kisses._

_Quinn_

_Quinn,_

_Picked up the magazine this morning before work and memorized you spread during lunch. Many co-worker now suspect that I'm gay- mostly due to the fact that I've never brought anyone to company functions. Secretly reading Vogue didn't help speculations._

_Although I know very little about fashion, I have been assured by my sister that's it the Bible on Spring fashion and 'a must-have guide to her survival at McKinley '. She asks that from now on, you tell her about coming fashion trends- she's got a clique to mold and a social hierarchy to conquer._

_I'm in the midst of a landmark case. Have you heard of the Mackenzie-Holden International case? I, along with a team of three others, have taken the case and am spearheading the legal team. Long story short- what should have been a slam dunk win for the firm has been more difficult than previous anticipated. Mr. Mackenzie withheld some important documents that were recently uncovered by his replacement. The trial is in six weeks, and although I have nothing else save our emails in way of obligations, I'm going to have to double my current hours in order to fully prepare._

_The life of a high-flying legal eagle._

_Hugs,_

_Sam_

_Lady Lips,_

_I'll make you a deal- I'll watch the Green Arrow Saga if you watch the Mated Saga. An eye for an eye? Let it be known though, that I'll be on the losing even of this deal. My selection is awesome, yours- not so much._

_You owe me!_

_Love,_

_The Fairest of Them All_

_Bitchy Barbie,_

_The first film was torture- the others weren't better. But after watching the first two, I had to watch the third- just to get the complete story and because I'd already watched the first two. Didn't know you were so desperate for romance in your life you've resorted to bad teen movies where the guy is always shirtless- even in school, really?- and the girl falls for line like, 'I knew when I looked at you that you were my mate- fated to be the other half to complete me.' Can you say, loser?_

_You owe me!_

_Really, fairest of them all? Conceited much? Lady Lips, isn't an insult- you love my lips._

_Yours,_

_The Best Man You Know_

_In Need of a Haircut,_

_Best man I know? I know fashion designer and CEOs, how do you know you're the best of them all? And I resent the nickname- Barbie's a bimbo. I, on the other hand, am not._

_Remember, as you scale the wall to success, take a breather and enjoy life. Being partner isn't all it's cracked up to be- just more work for you to do._

_XOXO,_

_L.O.Y.L_

_Quinnie Bradshaw,_

_Same advice applies to you._

_Best,_

_L.Y.T._

When his high-profile case is finally over and he's taken a day to de-stress, he realizes he missed the mark on executing his carefully laid plan to avoid forming any type of relationship with Quinn. They exchange emails daily, Skype bi-weekly, and play phone-tag often- he doesn't think about it at the time, his mind on other things. He rereads all the emails they've exchanged and finally picks up on the tone they've been using- instead of friendly, it's flirty. She's a black hole and he's been sucked in again.

He immediately panics and breaks off communication. He sticks to his resolve of ignoring the dialogue they've been engaged in over the past few months and his resolve only breaks when she shows up at his office.

"Quinn?" He almost drops all the briefs in his hands and his secretary jostles into him. "What are you doing here?"

She's sitting in his chair, proofing photos and jotting notes on a pad. She pauses for half a second, then returns to her work, as though he had entered her office.

"Sam, have a seat please."

She waves her hands to indicate the seats across from her. He's still so stunned that he follows her orders without protest and his secretary scurries off after Quinn raises an eyebrow. Her eyes go back to her work.

"You've been ignoring me."

He opens his mouth to say something- what he's not sure- but he refrains when her head snaps up suddenly and glares at him.

"I can't figure out why though. I know I haven't offended you and I know your work load is currently light- after finishing such a big case. So I had to hop on a last minute flight, take two working personal days off, to fly all the way across the country and investigate why you've cut me off."

He's thirty-three, but he now feels like a scolded child in front of her.

"I'm sorry." She further narrows her glare when he doesn't elaborate. Even after all this time, her patented ice queen, life-ruining cheerleader glare- which she'd up until then never used on him- is still just as chilling as it was in high school. They spend a few minutes in silence, but he snaps out of it when she angrily starts picking up her things.

"This- apparently- was a mistake." She's shaking her head at him and stomping her feet. "I don't know what I was thinking- coming here, putting myself out there. We didn't work out then because we just weren't meant to be. I thought it was because we were both immature- I wanted to try again."

She huffs past him, ranting and purposely knocking her shoulder into his. He catches her elbow, whirls her around until she's in his embrace, and then plants a mind-blowing kiss on her. He rubs circles into her skin, underneath her white, starched shirt and she fingers his tie while running one hand through his mid-length locks. He's just picked her up and placed her on his desk when they hear a knock on his office door.

She removes her hand from his trouser pocket and begins straightening her appearance while he leans against the desk and tries to will his erection away. When he finally answers the door, his secretary- and have the office- is nonchalantly trying to peek inside and at Quinn while providing some flimsy excuse as to why she knocked. He gets rid of her as soon as possible, then shuts the door and leans against it.

"Wow." Is the first thing out of her mouth. "Still… wow."

"Ditto."

Their eyes connect from across the room.

"I've been think about doing that since we had dinner."

"Me too. I missed you."

"Me too. Breaking up was the stupidest thing we've ever done."

They've crossed the room while talking until they meet in the middle of his office. Quinn wraps her arms around his neck, stands on her tiptoes and gently kisses him.

"So, we're going to try again?"

They dated for a year, have been apart for fifteen and he can't recall a time he was truly happy without her.

"Yeah." He placed his hands on her hips. "I'd like that."

He cuts out of work early that day- something he's never done before- and shows her all the sights. He's a teenager again- holding hands, making out at restaurants, and grinning like an idiot. He holes them up in his apartment- ordering in for the necessities and shocking his secretary by taking a day off- until he has to drive her to the airport.

"I don't want to go home."

He doesn't want her to go either, but they live on separate coasts. They've yet to talk about how they'll make it work, logistically.

He kisses her deeply. "Call me when you get home."

He watches her go through security.

'I love you.' The text message read. He's booked on the next flight to New York ten minutes later.

Quinn hated how much lonelier the city seemed after her amazing getaway to see Sam. She gets home, unpacks and orders Chinese. She's already pulling out the total when she opens the door.

"You're not my Kung Pao Chicken." She's frozen in the doorway and Sam's smirking attractively at her.

"I'd like to I'm better."

She launches herself into his arms.

"What are you doing here?"

"It took me two seconds after your text to realize- I love you too. It's probably rushed, but we've wasted so much time."

"I'll move to LA."

"I'll move to New York."

They laugh at each other.

"I'll move here."

Her fairytale romance is sometimes a disaster, mostly a work in progress for decades, and stalled since high schools- but he gives her a happily ever after ending after all, just like her eighteen year old self thought he would.

**The End**


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